Buried Secrets
by TheSincereViolinist
Summary: (Movie Verse) When Mallory moved to Brussels, she had nothing but her new apartment, her brother, a job interview and her theory of purpose. That was before she met Tintin, and is thrown into an adventure to save her brother, and find the treasure of a sunken ship. A 'Secrets' Adventure.
1. chapter 1

The first day I met the journalist was the day my brother went to his new apartment and I got list in the city streets. I stumbled around, everything was so new and scary at the same time. I felt like a flop, not knowing where my own home was. Thus had been the second time I'd moved somewhere, when my siblings began dropping like flies back in Germany. A mysterious illness, a curse...that's the rubbish that people told me was at fault. I know it's rubbish because of the memories of the night I saw it, the night I saw him.

And every night after was plagued with nightmares.

So, naturally, I was frightened at the thought of walking alone in these streets at night. The cool wind blew against my face, as my walking pace quick led into a run. In doing this, like karma leaping in, I ran into someone. "Oh, I'm sorry!" I apologized quickly as the ginger haired boy pulled me up.

"It's quite alright. Are you okay, miss?"

"Aside from appearing to be quite list, I'm fine." I assured him, as a small, white, dog ran by our feet.

"Us that anything I can help with?"

I smiled. "Perhaps. Do you know the way to 21 Labrador road?"

His eyes lit up. "Well, I'm headed that way myself. I would be glad to show you the way."

I giggled. "You're such a gentleman. What's your name?"

"Tintin, and my dog here is Snowy. And yours is?" He asked as we walked down the street.

I smiled back at him. "Mallory. Mallory Abbingnale."

"how old are you, Mallory?" He asked me. I suppose if I could ask questions, so could he.

"I'm eighteen. And you are..?" I asked him.

"I'm nineteen." Tintin told me.

I was intrigued by him. "So, what do you do?" I asked him.

"I'm a journalist."

"A journalist? How fascinating. An interesting purpose." I mused.

"A purpose."

"Everyone has a purpose, whether or not it seems realistic, Tintin. Like yours is a journalist, and mine us yet to be determined. My theory is that everyone has or needs a purpose. In life, in the economy, in the market...even in an adventure."

"That's a fascinating theory. What is your purpose, then?" Tintin asked me when we came to my door.

"I suppose that's to be determined." I told him. "Thank you for walking me home, tintin. You are a perfect gentleman." I heard a bark coming from the small dog and I giggled. "You too, Snowy."

"I hope to see you again, Mallory."

"As I to you, Tintin." And with that he left, giving me a small wave as I went inside, unaware of the adventure to be had by meeting him on that sidewalk that evening.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a few weeks since I first met Tintin. I personally enjoyed the quietness, even if it was lonely and slightly dull. Of course, I had Ernest and Martin. My eldest brother was going on and on about his precious ships again. Whatever did Ernie see in those ships? We have our own little caper about us and he finds his pleasure in those model boats. It was sickening to no end. I had long settled in now. A job was had to get, but then again it was the capital, it would be hard no matter what, now. I'd gotten a job at the library at minimum wage. It did me well, my brother was worried about me though. I never believed that counted though. All he was concerned about these days was his ships, Martin and I, the runt, and the one of whom may be the last Abbingnale's soon.

I heard a knock at my door and I rushed down. I opened it to see Tintin. "Ah, if it isn't everyone's favourite journalist."

"Good morning Mallory." Tintin greeted. I smiled back. He seemed so...intriguing and fascinating to me.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" I asked.

"I came to invite you along with me to the market." He asked with a smile. Always a smile with him. I wondered if I'd ever

"Well, you have such a charming way asking, how could a lady refuse?" I asked back fetching my coat. "Besides, I won't rightly be getting lost with you leading the way."

-/-/-/-/-/-

I hadn't yet seen the market place, I'd been too busy. But now looking about, it was quite nice. Everyone was friendly and excitable. Tintin stopped at a painter, while I looked around the area. Everyone was in bright colours, which was a nice surprise. Back in England everyone wore black and grey, something I didn't particularly like.

I could barely hear Tintin talking to the painter as I got list in thought again.

My mother went missing back in England, shortly before the night we heard the gunshots. Allan was the eldest of us back then, and told us all to stay put. When he went to investigate, Another gun was heard, and Mathew instructed us all to stay still and quiet. The next morning, Father, Aunt Lizzie and Allan were all found dead. We then all moved to Germany for protection. Deborah had disappeared back in Germany. We didn't want to leave because of her disappearance, it was because of the murder. Mathew's murder. We found him at the harbour, blood dropping from his mouth. He had been drowned by the same person pursuing my family, and that left us to find a new home, and that's where I am now. One of the three last of the Abbingnales.

"Mallory!" Tintin snapped me out of my daze.

"Yes?"

"What do you think of this painting?" He asked, holding the portrait of himself up beside his face.

I smiled. "I think it's wonderful. He captured your likeness right down to it. Of course, you'd need Snowy's opinion."

Tintin nodded with a smile, that soon dissapeared. "Where is Snowy?"

I looked around. "Oh...he was here only a moment ago. "Snowy!" I called, my eyes scanning the crowd for a small white dog.

I caught a glimpse of snowy by a few mirrors and kneeled beside him. "There you are." Tintin smiled and kneeled beside us. He stoked the dog's fur and told me that Snowy had probably been chasing cats again. I chuckled and scratched behind the dog's ears.

"Look at that, Mallory!" Tintin pointed.

I rolled my eyes. "I realize your reflection is charming." I only then realized he wasn't looking at his reflection, but then I realized he was looking at a model ship. He got up took a look at it.

"Triple masted, double decked, fifty guns." He said in mistique.

I clicked my tongue. "Yeah, she's a beauty, ain't she?"

Tintin nodded as the seller saw us. "Very unique specimen, that is. From the old captain's estate."

"Marlinspike." I told him.

"How do you know that?" Tintin asked me curiously.

"My brother is obsessed with buying and selling ship models." I explained curtly. "This is the unicorn, I think."

"Quite right." The seller said. "The man o war sailing ship from the 16th century."

"17th, sir." I corrected

"From the reign of Charles l."

"Charles ll, actually." I corrected once more, with Tintin giving me an impressed look. This was the one time I thanked my brother mentally for enlightening me so much.

"You won't find another one of these mate. And it's only two quid."

"I'll give you a pound."

"Done." The seller grinned shaking his hand, taking the boat out of the protective glass and handing it to him. "Gently does it."

As we were walking away, another man came up as he held it. "Hey bud, how much for the boat?"

The seller gestured to us. "I'm sorry, I just sold it to this young gent and his lady."

"Oh, yeah?" The main asked, getting out a wallet. "Tell me what you paid and I'll give you double."

"Double?" The seller asked.

"Thanks." Tintin said firmly. "But it's not for sale."

"Look, you two, I'm trying to help you out." He circled us, giving me an uneasy feeling.

"I don't think you realise this,but you're about to walk into a whole mess of danger."

"What kind of danger?" I inquired, folding my arms.

"I'm warning you, get rid of the boat and get out while you still people do not play nice." the man said to us before running off.

"What people?" Tintin murmured.

"Wonderful!" I whipped around yo see another man looking at the boat."It's just wonderful. Don't bother wrapping it, I'll take it as is. Does anybody object if I pay by cheque?"

"If you want to buy it, you'll have to talk to the kids." The seller told him.

"I see. Well, let the "kids" name their price." The man said to us.

" 'Name his price'? Ten years I've been flogging bric-a-brac and I miss 'name your price' by one bleedin' minute!" The seller complained, earning my second eye roll of the day.

"We're sorry. But as my friend explained to to the other gentleman-"

I was interrupted by the seller. "American he was. All hair oil and no socks.

I growled and continued. "It's not for sale."

"Then let me appeal to your better nature." He sneered. "I have recently acquired Marlinspike Hall, and this ship, as I'm sure you're aware, was once part of the estate.

"Of the late sea captain?" Tintin inquired.

"The family fell upon hard times." The man continued. I bit my lip. That brought back unwanted memories. Lost everything. They've been living in a cloud of bad luck ever since. We are talking generations of drinking and irrational behaviour...

"I'm sorry." Tintin apologized. But as My friend told you before, it's not for sale.

Good day to you, sir." We both walk away.

"What a dreadful person." I mumbled. Tintin hummed in response and I excused myself. I had my brothers to get to after all. They might be worried by now. Besides, I have a job to get to tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

"Mallory? Are you here?"

I was shelving some books when Tintin came in with snowy, making me smile. He had a wonderful talent to do that. "Tintin. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I was eonderimg if you could help me find something?" Tintin asked me as I climbed down the ladder.

"Of course. What exactly were you looking for, my dear?"

"A book on the unicorn." He said almost immediately.

I turned back to the shelves and climbed the ladder once more. "I didn't realize that you had such a fascination with these models. What's the sudden interest my dear?"

"Something happened on that ship...and I want to find out what." The boy explained to me, making me smile to myself. I picked out two books, "History Of Ships Of The 17th Century." And "The History Of The Haddocks. I climbed down the ladder and handed them to Tintin.

"One of these will help you find your answer." I told him.

I was about to turn back when he asked. "Would you help me? If you could take a break..?"

"Of course." I nodded, sitting beside him at the table. "I do love a good mystery. Besides, I could take a little break now."

Together, we looked through the pages, it finally caught my eye. "Tintin look!"

Tintin began reading aloud as Snowy and I leaned in. "Sir Francis Haddock of Marlinspike Hall The last captain of the ill-fated unicorn. Ship set sail from Barbados in 1676 on one of the most ruinest voyages in maritime history. The ship never reached its destination...attacked by Pirates. All hands lost except for one survivor. When Sir Francis was rescued and returned home - He was convinced his name had been cursed. The Unicorn's manifest stated they we're carrying a cargo... ...of rum and tobacco bound for Europe, but... ...it was long claimed the ship was carrying a secret cargo."

"A secret cargo? What could've the ship been carrying..?" I wondered to myself, petting Snowy.

Tintin continued. "Historians have tried and failed...to discover what happened on that fatal voyage." But, Sir Francis's last words: "Only a true Haddock will discover The Secret of the Unicorn.""

"Only a true Haddock...what do you suppose that means?"

"That I intend to find out, Mallory. Thank you for everything."

"It's a pleasure Tintin. Tell me if you need anything more."

"I will." He smiled. "Come in snowy." With that he left, leaving a smile on my face.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Later that night, I was walking home when I heard four gunshots and saw a van drive off.

"Mrs. Finch, two men were shot at our doorstep!" I heard a familiar voice, Tintin, yell to someone inside, while she complained about it happening before, making me run to him. I recognized both men. One was the man who had offered to pay double for the ship. And the other was Martin.

"Martin!" I explained, tears welling up in my eyes, as Tintin ran out to see the van.

"E...Ernest..." He moaned.

"What about him? What happened?" I demanded.

"Th..they t..took h..h..him.." Martin wheezed as I held him in my arms as he breathed his dying breath.

Tintin rushed back. "Can either of you hear me?"

I couldn't hear anything, because then my brother stopped breathing. He was dead.

Ernest was taken.

And then there was one.


	4. Chapter 4

I went over to Tintin's house the next day, my eyes still sore from my sobbing. "Come over I'm the morning. Mr Thompson and Mr Thomson are coming in the morning to ask some questions and hopefully find some answers." I walked there solemnly, knocking on his door. I was greeted by him. "Morning Mallory. Are you feeling alright?"

I hadn't told him that Martin, or as he knew him better: the second man who was shot, was my brother. He'd needn't know that quite yet. If he wanted to know my past, he had to dig a bit deeper. I answered with a mere "Yes, Tintin. I'm alright." A lie crafted so quick and delicate. I walked in, and came upstairs. I was in immediate shock st the sight I'd a mess so large. The place bad been ransacked. "My god, Tintin! Whatever happened to this place?!" He assured me no one was hurt and someone had broken in and tried to steal the ship, and my eyes became dark as the night. "The ship...but why?"

"He took out his wallet and showed me a tiny scroll. " this was in the mast, Mallory. Do you have any idea what it Is?"

I looked it over and handed it back to him. "I'm afraid not, Tintin. Ernest was always better at these secrets than I was."

"Well, perhaps we can find out together." Tintin said, putting the scroll to the safety of his wallet.

"Indeed." I agreed, when we both heard a knock.

"That must be Mr. Thompson and Thomson." Tintin said.

-/-/-/-/-/-

These policemen aren't just unorthodox, they're complete buffoons.

"The first man's name was Barbary Doors. The second was Martin Abbingnale, of Abbingnale fame." The first policeman said. "Barnaby was one of the top agents in the Interpol but we haven't got a clue what he was working on."

"Quite right, completely clueless." The second agreed.

"And Interpol hasn't any other leads on this?" I snapped.

"Easy there miss..."

"Mallory. Just Mallory."

"Right, well, we are still filling out the paperwork."

"Police cie work isn't all glamour and guns." The second said.

"Well, this may help." Tintin pointed out. "Before he lost consciousness, Doors was trying to tell me done thing." and with that, he started to spell out a weird from the letters soaked in blood.

K.

A.

R.

A.

B.

O.

U.

D.

J.

A.

N.

"Karaboudjan." I whispered.

One of the officers snatched the paper from him. "Great Scotland Yard!"

"What? Does that mean anything to you?" Tintin inquired.

"Wellingtons is at half price for bowler hats." I groaned, frustrated. We weren't getting anywhere.

"Really, Thompson, this is hardly the time." The other took the paper and examined the page. "Great Scotland Yard!" We both looked hopeful, before he explained that canes were half priced too.

I'd had it with these imbeciles. "Are you going to take charge of thus evidence or not?!" I asked angrily. They tried to 'reassure me they were on it. As if they could. Perhaps if they were the least bit competent, I would be. The fact that one of them tripped over a Siamese cat didn't help either.

"Thompson, where are you?" Thomson asked, not noticing he'd dropped the newspaper. I snatched in up in frustration, trying to keep from ripping it up in anger. Tintin put and hand on my shoulder and snowy leaned on my legs. That helped.

Until I heard the policeman say "Why, I'm already downstairs. Do try to keep up."

I growled and looked at a Tintin with frustration. He sighed heavily, patted my shoulder, and walked downstairs with me to say goodbye.

Tintin was talking to the officers as I studied the paper and muttered to myself. No. There was something we were missing. There had to be.

I made my way downstairs and pushed the newspaper to the officers begrudgingly.

They tipped their hats to us and left.

A man walked by us and caught Snowy's attention, making him bark and growl.

"What is it boy, Tintin asked s snowy ran up to the officers, with a man, no, the same man running past them, with Tintin apologizing. Before I could catch up, Tintin ran past me once more, apologizing, with something dawning on me. My lord.

That was the pickpocket. The scroll." I ran up to the street corner with the officers at my heels, to see people swerving just to avoid The boy and his dog. I snatched Thompson(or was it Thomson)'s cane and pulled him back onto the side walk as the one of the others did the same for snowy. He fell into me, making me clutch him.

"Thank you." He breathed as I handed Thompson his cane back. "You saved my life."

"It wasn't anything really." Then realization came to me. "The scroll."

"You must find my wallet." He told the officers. "It's very important. You have to get it back."

"And you will. Leave it to the professionals." Thomson said, as we walked away.

"We have lost the scroll, but not the story." Tintin muttered.

"Quite." I agreed. "Perhaps if we-"

I was cut off by men holding a rather large crate. "Mr. Tin...tin..?" A man with a clipboard asked. I clutched onto Tintin's arm.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Delivery for ya."

"But I didn't order anything."

"Oh well, that's because it's you." The man gagged him and Tintin went unconscious, leaving me to run, before I felt someone grab me and gag me as well.

Then everything went black.


	5. Chapter 5

I awoke to men yelling. Everything was blurry.

"What could you find on the girl?"

"Nothing sir. I checked everywhere on her."

"Go on then, check the boy!" The man snarled.

That's right, I'd been taken. Where was Tintin. He was beside me, us both tied to bars.

I heard Tintin come to. He groaned softly.

At least I knew that he was alive.

"Look all over him! Anything in your side?"

"Nothing sir."

"Well, check his pockets!"

I closed my eyes before they noticed I'd awoken. I had picked up a few tricks, before Matty's death he'd given me clues, hints, on how to survive these things. Or what he hoped would help us survive. Back in Germany, Mathew told me how to avoid certain...situations, much like this one. I had broken one of his rules though, in retrospect. The one rule he had about talking to no one and becoming friends with no one. It got you off guard, left other more room to conquer you. Perhaps I'd already let him conquer me.

I was interrupted from my thoughts by a shrill voice I recognized, along with a gruff one I recongnized as well.

"I told you, Sakharine. The girl won't have it! I know my sister."

Ernest. He was safe, thank god. But the other, it sounded so...familiar.

"Well, it's on the boy then. Have you found it?"

"He doesn't have it. It's not on either of them-"

"Told you."

"-it's not here."

"I've had enough of this. You!" He kicked me and my eyes shot open. It was the other man from the market. "Tell me where the scroll is! Where is it?!"

"Where's what?" Tintin asked.

"I'm tired of these courting games. The scroll, from the unicorn. A piece of paper like this!"he said, showing a scroll that looked identical to the one we had.

"You mean the poem." I said.

"Yes."

"It was inside a cylinder." Tintin noted.

"Yes."

"Concealed in the mast."

"Yes!" The man exclaimed.

I sighed and growled in exasperation. "We don't have it.

Ernest sighed. "We know you know the value if the scroll. Why else would you take it?"

Tintin began mumbling again. "Two ships and two scrolls, both part of a puzzle. You have one, you need the other. But that's not it, there's something else."

I could agree.

The man suddenly unveiled a sword from his cane pinging it at his throat. "I will find it with or without your help. You need to think about how useful you are to me. And," he continued, getting the sword so close it almost slit my throat. "He much you value her life." He put his sword back, and I started breathing again, thank god. I looked up at my brother with horror.

"Ernest, how-"

"I'll be able to save you thus way, little sister. This is so the Abbingnale's live on. Count your blessings." He huffed.

"Come on, we'll deal with them on the way." The man left, Ernest trailing behind us.

"I'm sorry I got you into this Mallory." Tintin whispered as he struggled.

"It's quite alright, Tintin. I had to find out about my brother sometime."

"Wait, Abbingnale? Wasn't that the name of-"

"Martin was my brother." I explained.

"I'm sorry." Tintin apologized.

"There's no time to be sad about that now. We need to get out of here."

"Agreed. If only-"We heard barking and looked up. "Snowy!" Tintin exclaimed.

"Good to see you boy!" I smiled.

"See if you can chew through these ropes, boy."

I smiled as the dog followed his master. We can do this.


	6. Chapter 6

"I never thought this would come out of our meeting. I suppose this was fate." I muttered as snowy chewed through my ropes, and Tintin barred the door with a crowbar. My ropes broke and I patted snowy, "good boy!" I smiled.

I pushed one of the crates to a window, and peered out if it, hearing drunken singing and light coming through a window. "Tintin, look!" I exclaimed and he came over to me to see the heard our captors yelling at us through the door.

"You wanna play that way, do you?" One screamed through the door. Then I heard something that reminded me how doomed we were. "Get the TNT."

I knew stakes like these, so I bottled up my fear and paced around the room. We had t find SOMETHING. "Alright, inventory. We have broken crates, ropes, obviously, and bottles of champagne. What else?" I muttered, as a smile grew on Tintin's face. "You have a plan, don't you?" I asked with a smirk.

"As a matter of fact, I do. How good at you at making traps?

Within a few minutes, Tintin gave me instructions to set a trap, or rather a trick for our captors with the crates and champagne. I thanked Deborah and Martin for teaching me these things in my head. Of course, this wasn't exactly the senerio they were thinking of, but good enough I suppose. No, I know it was good enough. We were going to get out of here. Blast Ernest to hell, he could go the the looney bin. The rumours of the curse probably tipped him over the edge. They broke him. Well, I wouldn't be broken so easily. After everything, I've been through, no one, not the curse not this positively monstrous and dreadful person could. I'd survived and I'd been stronger for it. When I'd finished, I looked over to the window. "Good, you're done. Come over here Mallory."

I trotted over, with snowy at my heels. He was holding a board, wrapped in rope. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Hold on, Mallory." He said. Throwing the rope, desperately trying to get the board inside the window. He missed at first. I bit my lip as i heard the TNT fizz.

"Tintin..." I hissed. "Hurry!"

Tintin gave it another try and got hit in the head. I winced, but my worries grew deeper.

Finally, he caught it and helped me through the porthole. "Climb up the rope."

I knew I hadn't much of a choice, but I still wondered. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Don't worry, I'll be right behind you, so I can-" he paused and quickly shook his head. "will catch you if you fall." I knew the TNT would blow in mere seconds so I began to climb. I agreed, I couldn't deny my irrational trust towards Tintin. It was shocking to me. I'd never been close p, at least this close to someone before. It was taking a toll on me, and it stung. But still, I loved this. Somebody being there for me. That had never happened before. It was nice. I kept climbing until I reached the other porthole and fell through it, being greeted by a scream.

I looked up and helped snowy get through, as Tintin climbed in. I saw who was in here and sighed. "Oh joy. A drunkard."


End file.
